Loss and Cupcakes
by waltzingtoxic
Summary: But, silences, they were nothing more than tiny spaces where periods ended and capital letters begun. Dealthy Hallows spoilers, kids.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I don't own anything. Not that characters, not the world, not the creatures, or places … not even the words I used but only the order in which I used them. Thanks.

It was the first time she'd seen him cry. She's forgotten good and well about George Weasley since that last time she'd seen him around with Fred, tackling each other and wrestling in the tall grass field that Luna could see from her bedroom window. Now, it flooded her. He was kneeling by his perished twin, staring down at his forlorn face with his hand held over his forehead. Everyone was jubilant over the conquer of the Dark Lord but George's was almost instantaneously gone, as quickly as it had come

He sobbed, quite plentifully as if there was an immense amount of pain surging through his body, as if his body had been severed. They were silent little sobs and he was dripping with snot and tears; it was a hideous thing, Luna thought, hideous but beautiful and cathartic. George thought no one was watching, that no one was paying attention but Luna was always watching. Luna was near omniscient in a sense. Her eyes, with that wide surprised look of her, were always watching people.

It was a moment before George started, realizing that a pair of shoes had walked up beside his kneeling, weeping frame – and looking up from her shoes to the tip of her head, he thought only about how greatly she resembled snow, and even a full moon over a lake, with silvery blond hair and a pale, round face. The tears were unstoppable but he opened his mouth, tried a pained, forced smile and opened his mouth. So many jokes died on his lips. Nothing seemed funny anymore. 16, she was only 16; he had seen her with Ginny but when she sat down beside him an took his hand gently in hers, staring up at him with her eyes of glassy blue, George collapsed in her lap in a heap of sobs and to him, she seemed a million years old.

She didn't ask him any questions not like he expected her to. No, Luna thought fondly of the stocky red-head sitting upon her knee, carding her slender fingers through his ginger hair as his tears began to soak through her robes. The crowd was dwindling, people were fallowing Harry, and they were all heading home. George made no move so neither did Luna, she simple waited with that eternal patience of hers.

Mrs. Weasley peered her head over at them, putting her hand upon Luna's shoulder and her smile said things that she could not. Stricken with her own grief she felt that she was inadequate in aiding her son, in losing the thing most important to him; her bearing of teeth told Luna that she appreciated her efforts, her never-ending kindness. Luna smiled that same smile of hers and she could not help but feel an enormous amount of affection for the Weasley's, for they had shown her great affections even when the other neighbors had no so much as said hello. "Thank you so much, Luna my dear." She heard her say and Luna nodded. She stood there with her tear-streaked face, hands clasped so hard in front of her they seemed to turn red.

Mr. Weasley normally chipper, care-free demeanor had been replaced by the face of an old man; and for a moment, Luna mourned for that care-free man and that smiling face. His lips were turned down into a frown and it seemed as though the bespectacled man's wrinkles were even more prominent than before, as he picked up the limp body, cradling it in his arms like a newborn and he gave Luna a nod of thanks as they headed out to Hogsmead to disapperate.

All the while, George had finally stopped sobbing, only breathing heavy hot breaths against her thigh with his hands crumpled into pathetic limpness at her knee. They were alone in the Great Hall with a mess strewn about the four tables. Luna didn't rush him and George appreciated it. Her cool hands only smoothed over his hair, running her hand over the blank spot where the boy's ear should've been. He sat up eventually, pushing himself up with weary hands. The torchlight glinted off his face and bore dancing shadows that still did not hide the wetness of tears on his cheeks or the air of hopelessness in his eyes. He looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"Are you all right, George?"

She kneeled still as he stood and he looked down at her, finally feeling the weariness. He almost questioned her, how she knew the difference but stopped himself short because of the new anger, remorse, guilty, pity that surged through his body until he felt nauseated. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, she was standing. She looked no longer interested in his answer and for that he was grateful. He longed for fresh air and made a silent decision to walk the grounds instead of take the portrait hole. Luna fallowed him without question.

The two of them walked along the dirt path silently and George preoccupied himself with taking sharp intakes of breath to fill his needy lungs. His legs seemed to wobble as they walked but Luna seemed to float all together, skip almost. "Like Snape." He said suddenly, halfway down the trail.

"Pardon?"

"I feel like Snape. They went to sever us. Severus, y'know?" His voice trailed off and his eyes squinted into the night. That wasn't even close to humorous and his grief struck him again; he knew that Fred was looking down at him from heaven, fuming at his twin's poor choice of joke. "I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, yeah?" He grumbled.

He hadn't realized he said it out loud until Loony looked at him but she stared at him with that vacantly surprised look and cocked her head, a tiny smile appearing on her thin lips. George just then noticed a droplet of blood, drying there on her mouth and reached out to wipe his thumb across her lips. The joke was horrible, he was talking to himself and he was trying to make cheer of things, trying to cope his grief and lighten the mood as they walked to Hogsmead but it seemed that her smile, under the starlight was doing a much better job at it.

Luna didn't make George forget. That's what he liked about her. She didn't make him forget about his mourning, about his loss but somehow the wispy little girl before him made him feel less disconnected. He'd spent all 19 years of his life with a partner, never spent one moment alone, not really, Fred was always there in his mind. They had always been "the twins", or maybe, Fred and George, Gred and Forge. Now, being alone, being his own person was something he was not used to. He wasn't used to being George. Plain old George Weasley. Luna made him feel different, like he wasn't outcasted. She was so strange. Maybe it was because she danced instead of walked, sang instead of talked but she made George feel like he belonged somewhere, to something, to someone.

They spent the entire rest of the walk discussing Willowgimps which had become Luna's new favorite animal of late. She talked avidly about them and how if her father ever got out of the ministries hands, he had promised her he would take her to Prague where they would hunt them down. George stared at her, awed, how such a young girl with misty eyes could be so unphased. She told him how they resembled gnomes and that most definitely he should watch out for them because they were normally very dangerous if you didn't know how to properly handle them: "Be quite wary. You'll never know." She said loftily and George felt as thought she were talking more than about Willowgimps; confused by his girl's obvious silent implications.

"I'll be very careful, Luna." He chuckled and she beamed at him.

Hogsmead was empty, chilly with some hidden demeanors and though he'd heard quite avidly from Ginny (even when he was apt in telling her he was busy) that she and Luna had conjured full-body patronuses their fourth year, he still instinctively stepped closer to the blond.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it a pair of Candelskerps?"

He opened his mouth but decided against it and shook his head, no. She nodded. He told her to hold on tight but Luna did more than George expected. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her face against his chest, her cheek pressed against the wooly fabric of his sweater. With a faint pop they were swirling into darkness. When they felt solid ground beneath his feet, George nearly collapsed on the floor of the Burrow but Luna still had her arms around him; although she was quick to let go when she saw the entire crowd around them.

"Dad—?"

He wasn't paying attention to George. Mr. Weasley's eyes opened at the sight of Luna, they opened wide and his hands wrung his hat as he stared at the pale girl standing in the middle of their living room. The chatter around was loud and many people where already heading off to bed but there was a decent veil of noise that made it so only Luna and George, if he strained, could hear what Mr. Weasley was saying. When finally she turned around, Mr. Weasley bowed his head and excused himself to the kitchen. George looked at her solemnly but she bowed her head as well.

"I'm tired." She said. "May I sleep here tonight?"

George didn't answer but the 19-year-old stood up from the comfy chair that he were sitting in and let her take it, grabbing a blanket from Ron who blindly yelped but didn't bother seeking it out, and laid it across Luna. She didn't cry and maybe George was surprised, maybe embarrassed but he didn't say so. He just watched her for a minute.

Luna Lovegood didn't cry when they told her that her father had been killed, albeit gruesomely. Not a single tear fell from her eyes but instead she glowed, glowed radiantly in her grief and sort of cocked her head in a morose way as she slept. Still, George was awed by her silences; what volumes she spoke about her loss in those silences. But, silences, they were nothing more than tiny spaces where periods ended and capital letters begun.


	2. Chapter 2

"George?"

George looked up from his hands, which he had been staring at for the longest time and found himself under the gaze of his brother, Bill. He could also swear he could see a tuft of hair peering in the side of the doorframe that he was almost positive was Ron. George let his gaze fall down towards his hands again, after acknowledging his older brother. "You 'right?" Bill said finally, standing in an awkward spot beneath the two beds in the room cramped with new pranks, old pranks, pranks that were still in the works. The room was eerily quite compared to all he years it had gone through; odd it was for the rest of the family to not hear any ruckus coming from the twin's room. Shifting his weight, Bill decided against questioning the sanctity of Fred's bed … that had been kept in its exact conditions since the boy had gotten up that morning for the battle. George hadn't touched it when he got home and Mrs. Weasley hadn't even dared to enter the room.

Bill instead sat at George's feet. "Why shouldn't I be?" George asked, snarky almost though his words were screaming for Bill to leave the room. The fact of the matter was that the younger boy didn't look fine. His red hair had grown unruly in a messy mass atop his head and obnoxiously long, covering his face when there was a particularly large gust of wind; his eyes were hallow looking and sunken in and honestly, Bill wouldn't be the first to find out that it'd be quite a while since he'd bathed.

"Well—?"

"Did mum send you up here?"

"No, I came of my own—"

"I'm fine, Bill, get out!"

Bill lowered his eyes and fiddled with his earring. Not once had one of the twins ever yelled at him, especially in malice. In fact, he could guarantee that they'd never yelled at anyone in such a way, especially in such a curt manner. He nodded and rose up slowly, staring down the top of George's head as he left the room. George sat there for what felt like forever feeling the grooves of his teeth and staring at the lines in his palms until he finally let out a ferocious scream, cursing the heavens, cursing his life, cursing the Death Eaters and lastly, cursing Fred for leaving him all alone with nothing but a bunch of half-finished experiments and one ear. He screamed until his lungs gave out and his anger fizzled, with him laying face down on the sheets. He gasped for breath and finally calmed, running his fingers through his hair; shaking himself into normal wits.

He got out of bed, finally and pulled on a pair of shoes. He slipped through the house like a ghost and ignored his mother's offers of food, he hadn't eaten in days and gave a faint little nod to Tonks' mother and father, sitting aptly in the living room for dinner to be served. His hands were shaking a little as he stepped out into the lawn, his jacket whooshing around him. Off in the light of the setting sun, which was like a purple and red bleeding gash through the summer sky, was a silhouette of a young girl and a cascade of blond messy hair.

George was rooted to the spot. Luna was dancing around the yard, preoccupied with the tiny little Teddy Tonks in her arms as she sang quietly to him, a little lullaby that George's own mother had sang to all her sons. Beside him, he barely noticed Andromeda step up, a near mirror of the Lady of his Nightmares, Bellatrix but with softer eyes and kinder smiles. No, like her, he was watching Luna. Her hair span around her and her feet merrily came on and off the ground in dainty little steps and she stopped finally as the cooing little baby boy fell fast asleep in her arms. Luna stepped over to Andromeda and handed the baby over with care, kissing the top of his head with her pink little lips and Mrs. Tonks sauntered back into the house.

Luna stared up at him and then, George wondered how he'd gotten himself into this spot again. He'd be spending an awful lot of his time up his room and barely spoke to anyone, so he hadn't seen Luna since the funerals. Orphaned, Molly Weasley hadn't thought it wise for her to stay alone at her house so she'd ordered her to bring over what she could rummage from the remains and come stay in one of the rooms at the Burrow. George finally realized his thanks in his mother's decision. The sun made a beautiful color in her eyes. He was taken aback; he didn't know what to say.

No worry because Luna spoke first. "Were you wary?" She asked with an ironic smile and at first George didn't know what she was talking about, until he fallowed her gaze to a gnome just sprouting in the ground.

"Of Willowgimps? Yeah, in fact, I think I might've spotted one scurrying away from the garden this morning … from my window." He smirked, a kind of devious smirk and he wasn't entirely sure if he was humouring her or not.

Luna spun around in a circle and her purple dress swirled around her pale legs and she seemed merry, quite happy within herself—in her own little Lunaverse. "Are you making fun of me, George Weasley?"

"Making fun—? No, 'course not, Luna."

"Good, then."

Her lithe frame seemed to lean into him for a moment before he could feel her warm lips on his cheek, he instinctively smiled, something that hadn't appeared truthfully on his face in days. Glinting with sparkle, her blue eyes looked up into his and George had to look away. Unprovoked, he never had a problem making eye contact with anyone but Luna wasn't offended; he really wondered if she could ever be. There was just something that he dreaded about looking her in the eyes too long. She took his hand and haphazardly ran through the fields over hills guided by own her wits and enthusiasm. George was lucky to have the sun for a few more minutes to tell him at least in which direction they were going. She was doing it again, dancing instead of walking as the world whizzed around them and the sun glared into both their eyes. He found himself just chasing her – not only her form but her freedom, her childlike wonder as her blond hair seemed to float and whisper to him and putting him into a trance. They were running through a field of tall grass reaching their middles, one that he only faintly remembered because his heart was pounding in his ears from running so fast.

When finally she let go of his hand, the sun was nearly done setting and the stars were starting to come out. The tall brown grass parted for her as she laid down with her blond hair a curtain around her head, like a glowing halo in the dusk. "George?"

"What if there're bugs?"

She laughed as almost she was talking to a young child whom she had to explain everything to. "Bugs don't come around these parts, George." For some reason he trusted her and lay down beside her in the grass. The two of them lay in silence for a while, so close that George could feel her arm brushing against his – warm and casual but far enough that he felt that he were in his own world.

"Show me which ones you know." She said quickly glancing at him before pointing her up at the stars. They seemed to cluster together than break apart as they ventured farther into the sky; they shined very bright but it seemed that Luna glowed much more than that in the night sky.

"I don't know any, I'm 'fraid." He said shaking his head.

Luna smiled and pointed her frail little arm into the sky, her finger pointing at one of the million stars. "Ophiuchus." She said simply.

"Where at?"

Looking at him, Luna took his wrist in her hand and pointing at the constellation with his hand instead. George blushed a scarlet at the rush of heat coming from their contact. "There. Ophiuchus." She repeated and finally he saw. He looked over, his body suddenly feeling heavy in the grass and she looked at him with that warm, familiar smile – the same that he'd received when she found him crying and George found an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms. He knew it weren't the best decision, his mum would be furious but that'd be nothing compared to what Ginny would say. He didn't care, he held ol' Loony Luna to his chest with affection and ran his fingers through her silky blond hair – it smelled of flowers and mint tea. She curled against him.

They laid there for eternity in the grass with Ophiuchus watching over them.

Inhaling a breath of cold air, muggy and full of pollen, Luna's eyes turned upon George and still holding her close he strained to meet them. "I've always wanted to tell you to be careful."

For a moment, he riddled himself with a few emotions, foremost that the barely corporeal girl in his arms had shown concern for him and mostly how the dreamy-quality that usually filled Luna's voice had disappeared for a moment. "What for, Luna?"

Her face stayed blank and she again laid her head against his chest, listening to the thump thump of his heartbeat as she turned it over her in mind. She'd only seen Fred and George once or twice; one particular time had been in her third year when they had been sneaking potions out of Snape's office. She smiled at them and they smiled back before they left. Ginny told her later that they did experiments, all in good fun for their pranks and all. For their company, she'd later learn and it couldn't do anything but give Luna a little sense of dread in her stomach. That night, Luna felt close to George in a more than physical sense and that their auras had bonded through the stars and intertwined like the skeins of fog that steamed up in the sky. The words compelled Luna, as they poured off her tongue.

"With your experiments. You're Wizarding Wheezes. My mum … she died of fiddling with things like that. She was brilliant at magic; just like you are." She paused and sat up, her hair cascading over her shoulders and the moon giving a glow that made the redhead's heart beat faster beneath his sweater. He wasn't sure to be flattered for her to be saying that he was brilliant, considering the connotations. "It's not your time to die, George. I'd like you not to die. I like you very much." Her words held that same infliction it did always but they carried so much in their far-off voice that George had to repeat them a couple times in his mind.

"I'll be careful, Luna" was all he could muttered, embarrassed and flushed there. He was happy that the moonlight was there to conceal him before he said: "I don't think you're very loony at all, y'know. You're probably one of the wisest, I bet."

With that, Luna smiled and George couldn't lower his eyes as her arms raised in joy as she began to dance to a music that was all her own, inside her head. Luna was not preoccupied with what other people thought. She danced when she wanted to dance, she smiled when she wanted to smile, she screamed for peace at the heavens when she'd like to and she praised the Lunar gods as she pleased. Deep down though, she had a great bit of her admit that George Weasley thinking that she wasn't loony made her gleam with delight. The shadows moved along her face and she could hear off in the distance some chatter, some night birds and the trees whispering to them. Suddenly, he was dancing with her and she giggled as she danced beside him – he was quite horrible. His limbs moved about frantically and there was no grace and intent but his soul was in it, Luna could tell, she could see that all his demons were being released by his busy, flailing dance and she made no complaint.

He pulled her on top of him as he fell back into the soft grass. Their limbs were a tangle and they were both panting for breath, their faces hot and pink as they looked at each other with her hair creating a curtain around their faces as if for a moment they were truly alone. George seemed to come upon a realization as he stared up into her honest blue eyes; they were so truthful as if she never told a lie. He felt as if with just one look she could read all his sins.

"Are we friends, George?" She said finally.

"'Course, Luna."

"Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together, George," She nodded her head and he felt himself grow even warmer when her face came too close. "And I feared you were the most important."


End file.
